


A Powerpuff Girls Z Christmas Carol

by empty_battlefield



Category: Demashitaa! Powerpuff Girls Z, Powerpuff Girls
Genre: Alternate Universe - A Christmas Carol Fusion, Childhood Memories, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Gen, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-29 00:50:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16733862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empty_battlefield/pseuds/empty_battlefield
Summary: Shirogane Himeko (Princess Morbucks) is snobby and brattish by nature, and her disdain for Christmas makes her more than a nuisance to be around.But one Christmas Eve, when Momoko (Blossom), Miyako (Bubbles) and Kaoru (Buttercup) find themselves able to enter the dreams of others--they take the forms of the Three Spirits of Christmas.With her fate on the line--and a visit from the ghosts of her past, present, and future--will Himeko be able completely turn around?A fanfic seven years in the making--I started this in probably 2012 and I thought heck, I might as well finish it. Will be updated every Tuesday @10AM EST until Christmas Day 2018. Happy Holidays!





	1. STAVE I.

**Author's Note:**

> This entire chapter was written in 2014, and I've kept the original text essentially intact for preservation's sake. So excuse the technique! Hopefully the writing opens up the story well anyways. <3 Bless

Himeko Shirogane heard a knock on the ivory colored door. "Miss Himeko, your lunch is being served. I advise you come out and eat before you go to school. What _are_ you doing in there?" a maid of the Shirogane royal family spoke through the door.

"None of your business! And don't tell me what to do!" yelled Himeko brutally. She kicked the door with her ruby red Mary Janes for good measure. She turned to her room, which was thrice the size of a normal kid's bedroom and cluttered with dresses, shoes, and a rainbow of accessories. It was Christmas Eve, and nothing in Himeko's closet suited the occasion. Himeko tore down the last dress, a pink one with a lacy collar and an amethyst stone where a necklace might hang and pink and yellow ruffles from the waist to the lacy trim, which fell about an inch above Himeko's ankles. She tossed it onto her huge bed and clenched her teeth in frustration. "I knew I shouldn't have gone to school yesterday. All for Keane-sensei's dumb Christmas party! If I had stayed away, then _maybe_ I would have a dress!" she said to herself angrily. She stormed out, in her nightgown, to the dining room table, which was set with so much food it was hard to believe it was all for one person. Himeko sat down to eat, and the maids left her to her privacy.

Just before Himeko put a forkful in her mouth, a sharp rapping noise came from the window beside her. "Psst! Over here!"

Himeko glared at the creatures interrupting her meal. Three skinny boys, one red, one blue, and one green, were gaping hungrily through the glass. "Do you mind sparing a bit?" the red one spoke out, almost pleadingly.

"We aren't sure if we'll have dinner tonight," the blue one added softly.

"Mama kicked us out of the house again," the green one finished.

" _Please_?" they all begged in unison. The boys then looked at Himeko with such a troubled expression that would have made any other person give in, but not she.

"Gaah!" Himeko shrieked. "Get away from me, you bags of poor, urban scum! Daddy! Rid this house of that...disgrace!"

The boys looked utterly terrified as Himeko's father bounded through the doorway. "How dare you infiltrate this mansion! How dare you scare my daughter! You should be ashamed, begging the Shiroganes! GET OUT!" her father boomed. The boys ran and screamed in horror as the angry man chased them off the property. The man of the Shirogane household didn't have to run far to scare the boys off the lawn and two blocks down the street.

"Himeko-sama! Is my little Princess alright?" Himeko's father said, returning to his daughter and his house. He hugged her tightly.

"I think so," said Himeko far too dramatically for the situation. "But it _was_ quite a scare."

"Oh, my Princess, I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, is there anything I can do for you? To calm your fear?"

Himeko broke the hug and thought for a moment. "Well," she began slowly, "I do need an outfit for school today. Something perfect for December twenty-fourth."

"School! I almost forgot! But I have just the thing!" Her father jogged back into the house. Seven minutes later, her father returned with the most stunning apparel Himeko has ever seen. The dress was green like a Christmas tree, and decorated like one too. Red ribbons, bows, ornaments, the whole works adorned the tree. A matching hat with a large golden star on top came with it, along with emerald Mary Janes much like her usual ones.

"Oh Daddy! I knew you would pull through for me!" She grabbed the hanger out of her father's hand and rushed to change into it.

"I'm so glad it satisfies your need. After all, a very special dress should be worn on a very special day by a very special girl," her father beamed.

Before Himeko knew it, she was arriving at school in her purple limousine just before the last bell. She walked up to her classroom and met up with her classmates and her teacher, Ms. Keane. Everything that went about in that room happened like any normal day, but with a bit more cheerfulness, as if the spirit of Christmas, as Momoko Akatsutsumi called it, had engulfed the room.

Speaking of Momoko, she and her best friends, Miyako Gotokuji and Kaoru Matsubara, along with Fumika and Hanayo, two of Himeko's closest frenemies, were all standing in a huddle in the middle of the classroom. They were chattering away, which annoyed Himeko to no end, so she decided to confront them.

“Oh girls! Have you seen the dress I'm wearing today? Daddy got it for me specially for today, imported from the United States. It makes you wish you could be as rich as me, does it not? Oh ho ho!"

That high pitch, snobby laughter attracted Kaoru's attention. It also demolished her spirit. If there was one thing she hated about Himeko, it was her laugh. To Kaoru, it was pretty much nails on a chalkboard.

But to Fumika and Hanayo, it was go-time. They immediately rushed to Himeko's side, gushing over how much she must have paid to get clothes so elaborate.

"Two hundred fifty thousand yen," Himeko said proudly.

This answer stopped Momoko, Kaoru and Miyako in their tracks. "Two hundred fifty thousand? Don't you think that's...a bit much, Himeko-sama?" Miyako questioned politely.

"Well I am worth more than bit much, wouldn't you say?"

"You're worth just as much as everybody else and we all know it. You should acknowledge it too," Kaoru said in a flush if rage.

"Miyako's right, that's a lot to pay for something you'll only wear once," Momoko added.

"How do you know I'll only wear it once?" Himeko shot back.

"You never repeat an outfit," Miyako pointed out.

"Oh yeah!" Himeko realized out loud.

"That's the attitude we're talking about. You could have spent that money someplace else, like making someone's unfortunate life a little better," Momoko retorted. She always dreamed of a peaceful world, and helping this dream on its way was a reason for her to become a Powerpuff.

"You want me to...donate?" Himeko asked, shocked. All three girls nodded. Fumika and Hanayo had disappeared from the scuffle. "If the poor need money, they should get it themselves, like me," Himeko criticized.

"But not many are born as fortunate as you, and many can't pull themselves out of debt," Momoko returned with an almost exasperated look.

"Well, if they know they will never be fortunate, then why do they live? It serves no purpose to them or everyone else, only pain," Himeko finished.

Neither Miyako nor Kaoru could think of anything else to say. Momoko told the unanimous notion of the three out loud. "Listen, Himeko-san, I think this conversation would best be terminated, if that's really how you feel about it," she said quietly as she turned back to her friends and tried to change the subject.

"So what is everyone doing for Christmas this year? I know I'm having company over." Momoko sighed contentedly. "I'm so glad, my cousins, aunts uncles...gives me another person to play with besides Kuriko."

"Don't talk about your own sister like that, not on Christmas," Miyako commented, a bit scoldingly.

"I know, I know, she's a great sister, really, and I couldn't imagine my life without her," Momoko said while grinning. Miyako knew she meant it.

"So what about you, Kaoru-san? What are your plans?"

"Heh heh, my turn. I know for a fact that I'm going to the final championship wrestling match with my family! Because my dad's a finalist, we get front row seats for all the best action. I hope with all my mind that he wins," Kaoru told enthusiastically.

"Sounds exciting! That'll be a fun experience," chirped Momoko.

"Ew, I don't like fighting," Miyako said, covering part of her face.

"Well, care to tell us what _your_ plans are?" challenged Kaoru, clearly depleted that Miyako didn't share in her happiness.

"Actually..." She blushed. "I'm planning on spending the evening with Taka-chan at the hospital. The nurses said me taking him out was a definite no, but they _will_ allow me to stay past visiting hours." She looked out the window dreamily. "You know, he's so lonely there, I really hope the spirit of Christmas will make him feel better," she said softly.

"That's beautiful, Miyako, I eat my words," laughed Kaoru.

"Sounds pretty yucky, if you ask me. Christmas in a germy hospital? How low can you go, Gotokuji-kun?" Himeko's voice and then evil cackle rang out.

All three girls whirled around. "There's nothing wrong with visiting the sick, Himeko, maybe you should try it sometime," Miyako said, hurt. She was tired of bullies constantly picking on her beloved friend.

"Yeah, what are _you_ doing for Christmas, Himeko? Up to no good, I suppose," Kaoru said hotly, desperately trying to control her temper.

"If you must know, Papa and Mama are sending me on a lovely cruise. The new one that circles all of the islands off the Japanese coastline," Himeko proclaimed.

"But doesn't that one last like, two months?" Momoko questioned.

"It does. So I'll probably miss like, two months of school."

"Why wouldn't you want to spend your Christmas with, I dunno, your family?" Kaoru pressed.

"Ew, no, family is annoying, I'd rather be alone."

"But...isn't your sister coming home to see you?" Miyako asked sweetly.

This comment stopped Himeko in her tracks. "No, she's staying at St. Cecilia's Preparatory School, I am to come to her."

"So you are going?" asked Momoko.

"I declined the invitation."

"A bit rude, wouldn't you say?" Kaoru challenged.

The last bell finally sounded. "Saved by the bell," Kaoru remarked.

"Nevertheless, merry Christmas to you, Himeko-sama!" Miyako called back cheerfully while leaving the school premises.

"I told you, Christmas is just a humbug!" Himeko yelled furiously.

"And a happy New Year!" Momoko shouted just for fun.

"Aghh! Dumb girls!" Himeko muttered as Kaoru flew past on her skateboard.

That night was rather paranormal for both Himeko and the girls Z.

Himeko fell asleep just fine, but her dreams troubled her greatly. She saw two figures, her mother and father, bound in chains.

"How did this happen?" Himeko shouted, horrified at the image.

"We wear the chains we forged, by evildoing!" Himeko's mother wailed.

"Link by link and yard by yard! We are haunted every night in our dreams!" her father wailed.

"In the day, you seem fine!" Himeko yelled desperately.

"Yes! But in the night, we cannot escape these painful nightmares. Oh woe is us!" her mother said.

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" Himeko said defensively.

"You will be visited by three spirits!" her parents yelled in unison.

"Three spirits? Wh-what do you mean? Ghosts aren't real, you've always told me that!"

"We have to go soon, it was a great cost just to come here," her father said warily.

"We were wrong. The first will come tonight when the bell tolls one!" her mother shouted, beginning to fade away.

"But—can't I just take ’em all at once and get it all over with?" Himeko pleaded as her father began to disappear.

"Remember—at one! Be aware!"

"But—wait! Daddy!" Himeko looked around her, but she was all alone. A black abyss engulfed her, and her beautiful nightmare ended.

Meanwhile, in the heart of Townsville, in a quiet neighborhood, the Akatsutsumi house was hosting an intimate slumber party, and its members were just winding down to sleep.

"Guys, we should go to bed now, we should have been asleep hours ago," Miyako told her friends seriously.

"I don't know about you Miyako, but I'm still a bit worked up about Himeko," Kaoru said, turning a perfect headstand on her sleeping bag, just to show her friends how defiant she is. "I mean, what she said about you and Takaaki-san was extremely mean. I don't think I can catch any Z's with _her_ on my mind."

"Well, yes, I suppose you have a right to be fumed, but I feel bad for her," Miyako replied. She laid down in her sleeping bag, ready to doze off at any minute, even with the dim light that still shone in Momoko's bedroom.

"How so?" Kaoru put her feet on the floor and turned herself upside right.

"Well..." Miyako began slowly. "I think Himeko-sama's family neglects her in a way. They try to buy her the happiness a teenage girl needs instead of giving it to her out of their hearts," she said, looking down into her lap.

"I suppose..." Kaoru trailed off as she laid down in her sleeping bag to doze off with Miyako. "What do you think, Momoko?"

Momoko was in the corner of the room with no intent to go to sleep. She had curled up with a book and was so mesmerized by it she almost didn't hear Kaoru call to her. "Uh, I don't think she _knows_ she is hurting people with her words and actions." Kaoru and Miyako looked at her funny. "I mean, who wakes up in the morning and says, 'I'm gonna go be rotten to someone today.' We should at least give her a chance."

Momoko then closed the book and slipped it under her bed. She got into her sleeping bag, laid down, and said, "G'night, girls."

"G'night, Momoko-san," the girls echoed back. Kaoru turned the light off and the girls Z drifted off.

About ten minutes later, Kaoru's voice rang out in Momoko's bedroom.

"You know, I just wish we could teach her a knock-hard lesson. Insert knuckle sandwich here," Kaoru murmured, punching her own hand.

"Kaoru, I thought I told you to go to sleep hours ago!" Momoko said in a sharp whisper. All the girls Z were in the room, standing up with the dim light on.

"I thought I did! I swear!" Kaoru shot back in a whisper. "Why don't you go yell at Miyako, she's awake too!"

Momoko couldn't have scolded Miyako even if she wanted to. Miyako just looked at the floor in front of her with a horrified look on her face, "Uhh, girls," Miyako said, barely audible. "I think...we're dead." She pointed to the floor at three motionless bodies in sleeping bags: one Momoko, one Miyako and one Kaoru.

"We can't be, this is insane," Momoko reasoned, pacing up and down the room. "Pinch me if I'm dreaming."

As Kaoru reached for Momoko's arm, Momoko shouted, "Wait! Maybe you're right! We're not dead, we're just dreaming!"

"Momoko, although I'd love to believe you, how can you possibly prove this?" Miyako exclaimed.

Momoko thought hard for a second. "Hold on," she said shortly, leaving the room. Miyako and Kaoru followed. Momoko opened the door to Kuriko, her sister's, room. Kuriko was awake too, but her body still remained motionless on the bed. She was vigorously fighting someone that the girls Z could not see. "Take that, how dare you shoot Galactic Man!" Kuriko yelled agonizingly loud.

"Yep, it's a dream," the girls Z said in unison.

"But, why aren't we rolling around and stuff in our sleep? Why does everyone look so..." Miyako trailed off.

"Dead? It's called sleep paralysis. It's normal. When we dream, we become paralyzed so we don't hurt ourselves in a dream. If you look closely, you can see our eyes flitting, that's called—"

"I'd rather _not_ have a science lesson in the middle if a crisis, thank you very much," Kaoru cut her off. "I've got a question. If we are in a dream, who's dream is it?

"What do you mean?" Momoko asked furiously.

"I mean, don't you think it's weird that we are all together in one dream, and no _one_ person controls it. Which one of us is dreaming, and why haven't we experienced this before?" she questioned Momoko seriously.

"Well, I certainly didn't think of that," Momoko said. She thought got a moment before it dawned on her. "Ken and the Professor _did_ mention that we might be able to do this," she responded ecstatically.

"Do what?" the quiet Miyako asked quizzically.

"Enter other people's dreams. So, to answer your question, it's _our_ dream," Momoko responded. "As for your other question, we probably haven't slept near enough to each other before for it to work. When we had a sleepover at Miyako's no one actually slept, so..." she trailed off, knowing her explanation was too long for Kaoru.

"You said we could enter other people's dreams," Kaoru put out.  
That's when it dawned on the girls Z. They knew what they had to do.

"A knock-hard lesson..."

"For..."

"Himeko."


	2. STAVE II.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Himeko takes a journey with Bubbles--her Spirit of Christmas Past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dated to 2014~

"Entering Himeko-sama's dreams sounds a bit intrusive to me," Miyako said, voice quavering.

"Intrusive or not, it must be done," said Kaoru harshly.

"We can't waste any time chatting. Now, who wants to take the first crack at Himeko's stone heart?" Momoko asked with her hands on her hips. No one answered. "Ugh. Girls, does _everything_ have to be done the hard way?" She squeezed her eyes shut in concentration until three sticks seemingly even in length appeared in her hand.

"Woah! How did you do that?" Miyako gaped.

"It's a lucid dream. You can make pretty much anything can happen," Momoko replied nonchalantly.

"Oh," Miyako said, crestfallen.

"There isn't much time." Momoko stole a glance at the clock. A quarter to one. "Each take a stick. Shortest to tallest, first to last, respectively."

The girls Z obeyed Momoko. Miyako lost. Kaoru won. Miyako transformed into Rolling Bubbles while concentrating unusually hard.

"Bubbles! What the heck!" Kaoru exclaimed indignantly. And it was easy to see why. Rather than her blue Powerpuff girl uniform, Bubbles was wearing a pure white dress with a holly hem four inches above the knee. Holly also adorned Bubbles' waist, hair and straps. She also held an old-fashioned candle snuff large enough to fit her head, which was glowing with her white aura.

"Cute. But get there quick. Remember, show her deep, dark memories of the _past_." Momoko instructed Bubbles.

"Past—got it," Bubbles replied before flying out the window into the wintry night sky.

As soon as Bubbles exited out Momoko's bedroom window, an aerial view of a snowy city met Bubbles dazzling blue eyes. "Woah," Bubbles gasped. As she flew, she got a chance to scope the many people's dreams in the houses she passed. She also saw nightmares, and felt a pang in her stomach that she couldn't help them, but she was on a tight time table and had to keep on top of it.

Bubbles was so busy scrutinizing every dream she approached, she almost crashed into the Shirogane Manor. She aviated to Himeko's window and peered inside. Himeko's body was asleep, but she was conscious in her dream, looking frantically around for her first visitor. Bubbles popped the sill open and Himeko heard it.

Himeko felt a jolt of fear run up her spine. "Who's there? My wake up call doesn't come until six, you know!"

"Actually, I think the best time for a wake up call is now." Bubbles revealed herself. She saw the flabbergasted countenance Himeko was wearing and tilted her head, asking, "Does my appearance surprise you?"

Himeko answered Bubbles with a question. "A Powerpuff Girl? _You're_ the spirit whose coming was foretold to me?"

"I am," Bubbles replied, not picking up on the insult.

"You can't be. You're—Bubbles." Himeko declared.

Bubbles grinned. "No, I'm not Bubbles. I am the Ghost of Christmas Past."

Himeko let out a load of air impatiently. "Long past?" she tested sarcastically.

"No. _Your_ past."

"Whatever. Say, would you mind putting your cap on? You're very bright, and it's hurting my eyes," Himeko inquired.

"What?" Bubbles said indignantly. "Get rid of me so soon? As flattering as it is, you need my light on right now to see the truth, and come toward it. You've been blindly living in the dark, so you've got an awfully long way to go!" She laughed and pushed Himeko toward the open window through which she came.

Alarmed, Himeko resisted. "I can't go out there! I cannot fly like you, spirit!" she asserted.

Bubbles laughed again. "You don't need to. A mere touch here—" Bubbles pointed to her own heart—"and you'll never fall."

Himeko placed a quivering hand upon Bubbles' heart and was immediately uplifted. "If I catch cold because of you, Bubbles..." Himeko grumbled so her navigator could not hear.

Bubbles wasn't quite sure where she was planning to take Himeko, so when she found a clear space with no distractions, she decided that was the best place to be.

"Now. Let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start," Bubbles hummed. "When you're a ghost, you begin down Memory Lane, your trip with Himeko Shirogane."

"Please stop singing."

"Fine," Bubbles sighed. Look ahead."

"It's...my house! I'm back home!" Himeko excitedly said. "Oh, this was my favorite room besides my own—it was such an elegant sitting room, until after Daddy and Mommy repainted it at least. And there they are now, coming up the hallway!"

It was true. A younger version of Himeko's parents entered the room with their newborn baby in their arms.

"And that...that must be me," Himeko whispered. She watched as her parents looked down at Baby Himeko and began their conversation.

"We can't take her to Hawaii, honey," her father pressed. "What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know," her mother sighed vexingly. "Are you _sure_ we can't cancel the trip?"

"I'm sure. You know how much business means to me, and you promised that our second child wouldn't interfere. I was happy with one, but no, you wanted—"

"Stop it! Not in front of Himeko-chan! How rude!" Himeko's mother snapped, taking the bundle of blankets and protecting them instinctively. "Very well then. We'll leave her with the maids. And if they don't do, we'll call in the finest nanny known to the Shirogane bloodline."

"Fantastic! I love it when everything comes out perfect," her father exclaimed happily. They both then left the room.

"And that's when the habit began. After that first success with the maids, the parents routinely left young Himeko with caretakers of all kinds. First, it was just for business trips; then suddenly, the Shiriganes had a daughter who only knew them by their face and bank account."

"That's not true! I know my parents and they love me very much," Himeko snapped back.

"Really? When was the last time you sat down, all together in front of the TV, per se, and spent quality time as a family?"

"..."

"That's what I thought. Let's shift gears, shall we? Oh!" Bubbles exclaimed. "Here's a good memory. You are eight, and you still long for your parents' love."

The scene changed, and Himeko was indeed older, sitting on the floor, putting together a puzzle of her own face.

"I remember that phase," Himeko reminisced. "It lasted about a week. I was so obsessed with puzzles, I made Daddy go out and buy one of me."

Bubbles listened, but only slightly. "Huh," she thought aloud. "That's ironic."

"What?! What?!" Himeko cried, looking all around her. She clearly was not fully adjusted to the unpredictable way of the spirit.

"One of the pieces is missing," Bubbles remarked. "The one about three inches down from the neck."

It was true. Himeko was far enough into the puzzle for Bubbles to count the remaining pieces. Inevitably, there was going to be an empty place—

"Right where the heart should be," Himeko said quietly.

"Shh," Bubbles whispered as a voice from downstairs was heard.

"Himeko-sama! Your parents are wishing to see you!"

"Okay!" shouted the young Himeko enthusiastically. She abandoned her puzzle and took to the steps.

Bubbles grabbed Himeko's hand, which was clammy from the exhilaration of the night. She transported them both to the living room, to be sure not to miss anything.

The scene was set in the chamber, and the Shirogane parents were sitting on the leather couch. "We have great news for you, Himeko-sama," her mother stated.

"Yes?" asked Himeko expectantly.

"We have a very special trip planned," her father continued. "We are to go as a family, someplace we've never been before."

"Oh, Daddy! That's great! I'm so excited to spend Christmas with you. Where are we going? England?"

"No, not England," her mother replied.

"France?" Himeko guessed again.

"You've been there already!"

"Oops." Himeko tried for the final time. "Then where?" Her father was still smiling, so it must have been better than England or France.

Bubbles pointed this out, and was met with hanging head from Himeko. "Looking back," she said with a mournful look, "I wish we'd have gone to England or France, or somewhere we’d gone before. Better that than, than—"

"St. Cecelia's Female Preparatory School!" Mr. Shirogane exclaimed. The greatest thing has happened, your sister has won the Overall Academic Excellence Award out of all her grade! Family is invited to the ceremony, so we are going to attend!"

"So I have to _watch her_ receive the award?" Himeko asked, crestfallen.

"Why, yes!" her mother exclaimed. "Is there...something wrong, darling?"

Himeko looked back up at her mother, wiping all traces of depression off her face. She could have thrown a fit, but was too sad to do so. "No, nothing's wrong."

The joyful excitement returned to the Shirogane parents. "Good," her father said, "We leave tomorrow."

"Wonderful," Himeko voiced half-heartedly.

Bubbles took Himeko's hand, but not the subject at hand. The room morphed, and Himeko was forced to watch a smorgasbord of events she hoped to erase from memory: the jet ride to St. Cecelia's Prep, the ceremony itself, the party celebrating the fact that Christmas was only for Miko to enjoy, not her. She couldn't stand it. But Bubbles wouldn't let her rest.

The room transformed once again, and it was a dimly lit somewhere that Himeko didn't recognize. She voiced this, and Bubbles replied, "I think you do. Take a closer look."

Himeko glanced back at the spirit scornfully, but did what she was told. When she cast her eyes upon the details of the room, she shockingly discovered that Bubbles was correct. Everywhere she observed were Shirogane family pictures, all portraying the same story—her parents, Miko's achievement, and Himeko desperately trying to invade the photograph with her under-par accomplishment. In fifth grade, when Miko won the history fair with her Greek God Family Tree, featuring a three dimensional synthetic tree, Himeko was largely ignored with her lima bean sprout. When Miko won valedictorian in eighth grade, the picture to remember the moment consisted of their parents, Miko with her certificate, and Himeko with her own report card, which anyone could see thanks to the Shirogane's excellent camera, held more C's than A's or B's. The list went on and on.

"Do you remember?" asked Bubbles softly.

Himeko paused. A tear almost rolled down her cheek. "Yes," she said. "I _do_ remember."

Bubbles broke the silence that followed. "There is so much to see. We must move on now." Himeko gladly followed her.

They were transported again to yet another place. The first class seating chamber of the Shirogane private jet. "You look about the same age," Bubbles said out of nowhere. The same solemn atmosphere continued between the two.

"I'm nine, actually," Himeko corrected. "I know what this is..."

They continued to watch as the younger Himeko suddenly began collecting what must have been her belongings from off the floor of the plane. She then walked up the aisle and exited. The two silent spectators followed her.

Bubbles spotted the sign that held vital information pertaining to where they were, since Bubbles had no idea. "St. Nicolette Female Prep School," she read. "Hey wait a second, wasn't Miko's school—"

"St. Cecelia's," Himeko finished sadly. "Yes. They sent us to different boarding schools because Miko has so much more smarts, talent, and accomplishments than I do."

Bubbles fought the urge to break down and comfort her. "But they're both good schools," she pointed out.

"Yes." Himeko sighed. "But hers is the snobby _smart_ school, mine was the snobby _stupid_ school, for spoiled rich kids."

"You're damn right," came a rough voice from inside Bubbles' head. She recognized it immediately. Kaoru Matsubara. Only she would say something as crude as that.

"Is there something wrong, Spirit?" asked Himeko tensely.

Bubbles snapped out of her frightened-bewildered daze. She hadn't realized she looked as if _she_ was the one seeing ghosts. "Yes. Just watch."

Kaoru left Bubbles alone, and she and Himeko continued to watch the scene. The nine-year-old Himeko stared into the light gray sky where the jet had disappeared, leaving the young girl on her own.

"I thought the hardest thing was watching that plane leave," Himeko said out of nowhere. "Now I realize the hardest thing was watching me watch that plane leave." Bubbles looked over, and she could have sworn that tear she saw before had made its way down Himeko's face. She, again, forced herself against her sweet nature to hug her and comfort her.

Bubbles realized she had begun to lose herself in the mix of Himeko's depressing childhood. But she knew she must be a little more heartless. This is Himeko Shirogane we're talking about, Bubbles reprimanded herself. You need to stay atop your game if you want to succeed. You've got her softened up enough to give Blossom a decent lead. Don't lose it all now upon carelessness.

"Can we go home now, Spirit?" Himeko asked.

Bubbles turned to her solemnly. "I'm afraid not. I have but one more thing to show you." And with that, she grabbed Himeko's hand again and transported her to yet another memory.

"I don't know about this, Spirit," Himeko's quavering voice said. They were in a darkened room, and it was cold. Himeko, in her bare feet and a nightgown, shivered.

"It's the dead of night," Bubbles explained. "You've been comfortably prospering in St. Nicolette's for a year now, to the date."

"I still don't understand—" Himeko began, but was stopped short due to Bubbles' harsh "Shh!"

"Himeko-sama? Is that you?" a voice spoke out timidly from the darkness.

All of a sudden, a dim light flickered on, and the dimensions of the room were revealed. The place smelled slightly of mold, and no way would Himeko find herself in a place like that today. It was a spacious chamber, and the absence of windows told them that it was probably deep underground; somewhere students weren't supposed to be.

"Yes. You can come out now, Lady," Himeko said. From behind a dingy couch against the wall, the small figure of a younger, past version of the female member of the Amoeba Boys emerged. Both girls sported the red, black and blue uniform of St. Nicolette's.

"Whew! I would have died if it were anyone else," said Lady, relieved.

"So would I, if I were you," Himeko said, laughing a bit. "What time is it?"

"Ten twelve. She's late," Lady commented.

"Well, she has a right to be. She's a senpai, after all." Himeko pointed out. "Here she comes now. You got your loot?"

Lady nodded, raising the sack she held in her right hand. "You got yours?" Himeko did the same.

The wooden door opened, and a lanky older girl also in St. Nicolette's attire strutted in, holding a sack that could hold both Himeko and Lady's sacks within it.

"Welcome, Sedusa," greeted the younger girls quietly.

"You've done well, I see? Show me what you got," Sedusa ordered. The girls sat down on the floor, and obediently spilled the contents of their bags upon the floor. Sedusa gravitated toward Lady's first.

"Hmm...not bad, you've learned well in the last few months," Sedusa commented, picking through the money and several clothing items.

"I learn from the best," Lady said nervously.

"Good answer." Sedusa picked up a yellow sun hat. "Money is always good, remember that. The hat is nice...for you."

"I know right," said Lady happily, grabbing the hat off of Sedusa's hand and jamming it on her head. 

"Where'd you steal it from?" asked Sedusa uneasily.

"A foster home," Lady replied nonchalantly. "Everything I stole tonight came from there. I told a kid there that because I donated money to them, I wouldn't have enough funds to buy a hat. So then she gave 'em to me."

"Ew," was Sedusa's last stand.

"Wait hold on," the Himeko in the scene cut in. She hadn't spoken for so long, the two onlookers thought she couldn't. "You didn't give them any money, did you?"

"Of course not, Katherine Obvious. That's just the way we do it. Weren't you listening when we walked you through the first night, teaching you how to properly steal money? You go to the people, tell them you're making a donation, then take the money instead. It works for everyone."

"Oh," said Himeko, ashamed. "Yes, of course, but I just, uh, did it a different way tonight."

"You better have, Himeka," Sedusa growled. The two underclassmen sweat dropped and refrained from correcting her. "Let's look at what you got, shall we?"

Himeko proudly presented the prizes from her plunder. Sedusa, just like with Lady's, began examining the spoils. "You've done excellent Himeka. Remember, lots of money is always a good thing," Sedusa remarked, picking up the all-cash haul. "Where did you get it?"

"I saw an article in the newspaper," began Himeko smartly. "It covered a story on how this charity had recently reached four hundred thousand yen—"

"Which charity is this?" Sedusa asked, a glimmer of greed twinkling in her eye.

"I figured you'd want to know, so I wrote it down; I'm forgetful," Himeko said, handing over a small piece of paper. "Some research fund or something."

Sedusa read, "Golden Heart Foundation: Transforming the Lives of Children With Rare Cardiac Disorders. Well that's a mouthful. Where'd you go?"

"Tokyo Children's Hospital," Himeko replied. "It's pretty far, but worth it when you have a private jet." Himeko flashed an evil smirk. Sedusa returned it.

"Tonight was a good night, girls," their leader said, scooping the combined pickings into her sack. We meet again next, uh—"

"Wednesday," Lady filled in. "Next Out Day is a Wednesday."

"Yes; see you then girls," Sedusa flashed a brilliant white smile against red lipstick, and left.

Once the two remaining girls left also, Himeko was left to face a condemning Bubbles. "Stealing, huh?" she remarked.

"I'm not proud of it." Himeko hung her head.

Himeko and Bubbles shared a moment of awkward silence.

"What I don't understand is, you have money," Bubbles asserted. She was very hurt, and she was sure it was stronger than Himeko's remorse. "Why would you need to steal it from someone else? Someone who needed it?"

"I don't know!" Himeko whined. "I wanted to fit in, I guess. So the senpai girls would like me." She turned away from Bubbles and refused to glance back.

"If you knew how hard it was being a rare disease," Bubbles began hotly, "and how hard it is to get awareness and support, you definitely would not have stolen that—it isn't yours."

"Okay, can we _not_ use the word 'stole?' And besides, I worked _hard_ to get that money. I deserve it!"

Bubbles was itching to say, "You most certainly do not!" but refrained. "We have to go one more place."

"But—you said this was the last one!" Himeko complained.

"Well, I guess I lied," Bubbles snapped; something Kaoru would be proud of and her grandmother ashamed of. But they were upon the final memory before Bubbles could think twice about it.

The scene settled upon Princess' dorm room in St. Nicolette's. It was quaint, as Himeko was alone to study in her room quietly, but she couldn't quite concentrate. She wandered over to the window and looked out at the overcast sky outside. Suddenly the door opened, and she darted back onto her bed and returned to her textbook.

"You don't have to hide from me, Himeko-chan."

Himeko looked up. "Miko!" She abandoned studying completely and ran to hug her sister.

"What are you doing here, Onee-chan? Not that I want you to leave," Himeko assured her, laughing.

"I came to take you home!"

Himeko froze in her tracks. "Home?"

"Home!" Miko exclaimed, attempting to gather some of her sister's things. "It's so messy in here," she remarked, tripping over some stuff on the floor.

"Yeah, I room with a slob but that's not the point. Want do you mean, home?"

"Back to the manor," Miko said, still trying to fill Himeko's princess suitcase with stray things. "I'll be there, mother and father will be there. You should be there too."

"And do what?" asked Himeko critically.

Miko ignored it. "And participate in a bunch of Shirogane parties, of course. You have to come. The whole bloodline will be there."

"Even Uncle Jay?" asked Himeko, wrinkling up her nose.

"Uhh, not Uncle Jay," Miko said uneasily, dropping a corner of her mouth. "It's basically like a family reunion: but with style," she finished. "And cake."

This seemed to catch Himeko's attention. "Catered from our private service?"

"Where else, Grandma's house?" Miko joked. "If course. This is the first time not one delicacy _isn't_ from there. Full Shirogane blowout."

"Sounds like fun." Himeko grinned. "I'm in!"

"Perfect! We leave in twenty minutes," Miko said, backing out of the room carefully. "Be ready!"

"I will!" Himeko called back. Her voice echoed as the picture faded, and Himeko and Bubbles were left to talk.

"But they didn't go as planned, did they?" Bubbles inquired knowingly. Himeko sensed that.

"Of course they didn't, Ms. Know It All." Himeko grimaced into her sleeve. But she was forced to come around when another scene appeared.

They had returned to the Shirogane Manor, where a large amount of people were celebrating the festivities in a glorious ballroom. Bubbles had never seen so many rich people in one place. The two squinted to find the Shirogane sisters, and soon located them, and realized a disappointing fact. The party population was mostly adults. This was not a problem for Miko, a social butterfly, who was constantly conversing with the guests about weather, science, St. Cecelia's, and a ton of other things.

Himeko, on the other hand, was not as lucky. She had attempted to make friends with some of the adults, but they either didn't fancy speaking to her, treated her like a child, or asked her to fetch them something. She eventually resorted to hiding out in the garden, where she took in the fresh air.

It was a nice day, for winter. It was chilly, but brightly sunny. Himeko strolled among the bushes, her pet cat trailing close behind.

"Look out!" present Himeko shouted to her past counterpart. For about to hit the unaware Himeko on the scene was a black Z ray falling from the sky.

The present Himeko tried to step in front to block it, but the dark cloud simply passed right through her and transformed her past self instead.

The present Himeko whirled around just in time to put two and two together for a dastardly secret. "I'm...that?" she asked, horrified as she watched Himeko Shirogane into Princess Morbucks.

Bubbles nodded sadly. "The Evil Princess Morbucks is not a myth. She's you, in another form."

"But she commits awful crimes," Himeko pointed out.

"You mean _you_ commit awful crimes," Bubbles expressed. "You need to own up to your mistakes, that's the only way you can fix them."

"No!" Himeko countered louder than necessary. "I don't need to fix anything! That wasn't me! Spirit, why do you delight in torturing me with such things?"

Luckily enough, Bubbles remained calm. "I don't intend to torture you; only to _show_ you your past.”

Himeko was fuming by that point. “You aren’t showing me anything! You’re only annoying me! Haven’t I already lived it once?”

Bubbles said calmly, “Himeko-sama, you need to learn from your faults.”

“This doesn’t change anything, Bubbles!” Himeko spat. Her bitter attitude almost overpowered Bubbles’ stagnantly calm demeanor. “You’re _really_ getting on my nerves now!”

Bubbles said, “Himeko-sama, it’s only how we live.”

“Well, why don’t you leave me to it, then? Why don’t you just leave?!” And with that, Himeko took all her bottled up anger out on the nearest object, which was the cap that Bubbles had been carrying around all night long. Himeko ripped it from Bubbles’ hands and jammed it onto her head.

Bubbles stopped taking, alright. In fact, she began to dissolve into what looked like a million little sparkling, golden bubbles. There was a ring of light encircling the rim of the cap like a flashlight pressed face-down. After the light faded out, a silence surrounded Himeko like a cloud as she clung to the cap—the only thing left of the Spirit of Christmas Past. Then, the cap faded into nothing as well. Himeko was finally back in her own room.

Himeko was alone, and the room was so quiet she could hear herself whimpering. With the way that the spirit just disappeared, it was hard for Himeko to wrap her head around what had just happened. “I can’t believe I fell out of bed _again_ ,” she whispered to herself. It seemed to explain why all the covers and sheets of her four-poster were laying in a crumpled heap near the foot of the bed. She set them right again and climbed back in bed. “Tomorrow, I’ll ask if the Shirogane royal physician has anything that can help me sleep,” Himeko said softly. She yawned, turned over in bed and drifted off to sleep.


	3. STAVE III.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Himeko takes a round trip to the Christmas festivities around Tokyo with her companion Blossom--the Ghost of Christmas Present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dated to 2014~

When Bubbles returned to the bedroom, she flew in through the window to meet two of her friends’ anxious faces.

Momoko said softly, “How did it go?” She was almost afraid to ask. She knew how much was riding on this.

Bubbles landed gracefully from her aviation upon Momoko’s fuzzy rug. She smiled slightly and transformed back into Miyako. “I’d call it a success, I think.”

Momoko and Kaoru each breathed a sigh of relief as they went to engage Miyako in a tight group hug.

Kaoru was the one to break the embrace. “You have to be quick about this, Momoko,” she said seriously. “We don’t have much time.”

Momoko nodded affirmatively and transformed into Hyper Blossom. Within a second, she had gone from wearing a frail pink nightshirt and ordinary pink sweatpants to a full length gown, made of fine fabric in colors like green, red and white. The dress had no sleeves, and a feminine shawl adorned Blossom’s slender shoulders like the Golden Fleece. Blossom seemed to exude a new maturity after her transformation. Perhaps it was because her clothes seemed to be sparkling all over. She was dressed so lavishly, yet her manners remained more humble than ever. It was quite an effective contrast.

“Good luck,” Miyako said in a low voice as Blossom turned on her heel to take off.

Blossom smiled slyly back at Miyako from over her shoulder. “I won’t need luck,” she said. “Not since you gave me such a good lead.”

Miyako beamed, and Blossom flashed the girls one last smile before she flew out the window and plunged herself into the darkness.

* * *

A coyote’s infamous call sounded in the distance, and echoed through the night. Himeko awoke abruptly, startled by the sound. She sat up in bed as she heard that same sound echo back to her again. She said rather loudly to herself, “There are no wolves at the Shirogane Manor!” Himeko climbed out of bed and wandered over to the window. She opened the sill and briefly peered outside.

“Oh Himeko-sama—you’ve been awaiting me. If I had any idea, I would have made sure to have been here sooner!”

Himeko whirled around. Blossom was seated casually on the bed behind her with her legs cutely crossed. “Ugh, you Powerpuffs again…” She spat out the word “powerpuff” like it was rotten cheese. “So what are you supposed to be?”

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,” Blossom replied.

Himeko, yet again, didn’t seem all too convinced. “What do you want from me?”

“All I want is the goodness of your heart. I know it’s in there somewhere.” Blossom elegantly rose from the bed and outstretched a pale hand. “Come, know me better. Know us better. Know better the part of the world you don’t see.”

Himeko raised a critical eyebrow at the specter, hoping to throw her off balance. But Blossom retained her firm stance, and her smile never wavered. “Fine,” Himeko said, taking Blossom’s hand. It was warm, and it seemed to counter the cold outside.

As soon as contact with the spirit’s skin was made, Himeko and Blossom were instantly transported into another place. Suddenly they were flying high above the city, swept into what seemed to be a hurricane of brisk winter and Christmas cheer. Himeko was treated to an aerial view of the entirety of Tokyo City.

There were a surprising number of people in sight, out and about at this time of night. From her height, Himeko was given a small sample of everything in the city. The street never seemed to be too dark or too desolate in any place. There was always some kind of lamp illuminating a house or streetlights beaming down upon the hustling and bustling of clusters of people below her.

Himeko flew a tad lower, and she was able to set her gaze upon the Gangrene Gang standing in a tight circle around a trash can lit on fire. The teens stared longingly into its blazing warmth, rubbing together their hands clad with tattered, flimsy gloves. But Himeko looked even closer, and unless her eyes failed her, she could clearly see them all smiling with their signature yellow-stained teeth.

“God rest ye merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay…”

The sound was unharmonious and overwhelmingly discordant, but Himeko felt that she was the only one who cared about the gang’s lack of a proper melody. In fact, Fuzzy Lumpkins was contentedly plucking away at a banjo to the beat of their screaming voices.

“Remember Christ our savior was born on Christmas Day!”

Nobody seemed to know the words after that, and each began humming. They all laughed rather obnoxiously for a moment, then settled in closer to listen to Fuzzy’s striking chords.

Himeko flew around a bit more, taking a deep breath of the buzz of a city at Christmastime, and letting it settle at the bottom of her lungs. Blossom landed their flight at what Himeko would call an unlikely place.

Before them stood a small hut, almost like a bungalow. It was clearly a building, constructed sloppily with wood that had aged into a faded murky brown color. But the hut was also overrun by thirsty weeds, and since it was wider than it was tall, it seemed to be crouching down in the grass. Apart from the overall mustiness that clung to not only the hut—but also the air around it—one of the front windowpanes held broken glass. It definitely wasn’t from a baseball.

Himeko stared at it for a while in silence before looking to Blossom for context. “I dare not call it a _house_ ,” she scoffed.

“Even your fellow villains manage to have a little fun on Christmas,” Blossom said. She took Himeko’s hand and they were transported inside.

The interior of the house was just as ramshackle as the exterior. The room was dimly lit, and the man of the house, Mojo Jojo, looked more harried than ever as he scurried around the kitchen in a heavily stained pink and white apron—although the white had yellowed considerably. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a dirty towel, then slung it over his shoulder as he continued arranging the food upon the fully set table for four. Everything else in Mojo’s kitchen appeared dusky, as if it needed attending to. There was tons of tchotchke that cluttered the floor, and the weak-backed family Christmas tree was stooped over. Himeko figured out pretty quick that this was most likely the largest room of the house.

As Mojo Jojo set the final plate upon the table, he called loudly, “Boys! It’s time to eat!”

“ _Boys_?” Himeko mumbled to herself. “This man has _kids_?”

They were heard before they were seen. A thundering of feet stomping up the stairs from what must have been the basement preceded the appearance of three boys. Each looked about thirteen—and nothing like the others. The first was a redhead, hair that he covered with a hat turned proudly to the back, and had clever eyes of the same color. The second was blonde, with eyes of a curious blue. The third had thick black hair that partially covered strikingly green eyes. Each seemed to be sturdily built, but it might have just been the heavy overcoat and sweatpants each of them wore—all alike in style, only different colors to match each of their eyes.

“I’ve seen these kids around,” Himeko said thoughtfully. Blossom looked over at her. “They’re those brothers that roam around town all the time, messing with people’s stuff. You know, they came onto our property this morning, begging for food. They’re street urchins half the time. And I guess this is where they live.”

“They have names, you know,” Blossom hinted at her.

“Do they?” Himeko remarked sarcastically. “Hey—the tall one in red kinda looks like you.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Yay!” Brick shouted on his way up the stairs.

“Mama!” exclaimed Boomer.

“Dinner!” yelled Butch. Once he reached the ground floor, he attempted to straighten out the crooked tree, but it inevitably flopped back over.

The three boys ran into Mojo’s arms, into a tight embrace. “Let’s sit down to eat, eh?” Mojo said, and each boy quickly took to their chair while making a loud clattering noise on the floor. Once everyone was seated, Mojo Jojo and each of his boys folded their hands for a brief prayer. “We thank kami-sama for food. And family. And our house. And…well, that’s it!”

All four began tearing away at parts of the turkey, and no one bothered to use a knife—or forks, for that matter. The table was simply a huge mess of arms reaching this way and that, for various plates of food on the table. Nobody spoke for the five minutes that everybody ate.

When the meal was over after those precious five minutes, Boomer said to Mojo, “Mama, that was the best turkey you’ve ever stole.”

Himeko’s eyes widened in alarm. “Spirit? Did you hear that? That turkey was _stole_. But you only have bad things to say when _I_ do it, huh?”

Blossom said flatly, “I _don’t_ condone stealing. But _why_ do you think they would steal it?”

Himeko didn’t have anything to say, and Blossom didn’t have anything to say to her. So Blossom silently took Himeko’s hand and transported her to another place.

The atmosphere had quickly morphed into the next stop. When everything in Himeko’s world had stopped spinning and swirling around, she looked around and realized where she was.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” she questioned the spirit. “This is a hospital.”

“Tokyo City’s,” she replied offhandedly. “Then we’re in the right place.”

Blossom led Himeko down the pristine white hallways, with doctors and nurses walking briskly in both directions on either side. None of them, though, could see Himeko.

Abruptly, Blossom stopped in front of what appeared to be a singular patient’s room—exactly like all the others on the same hall. The number on the door read _305_ and Blossom urged Himeko to look through the narrow vertical window on the wooden door. She obeyed, standing on her tippy-toes to peer through the glass.

There was no one in the room, except for a boy who was sitting up in bed. He looked about seventeen, but from what Himeko could tell he was ghastly thin. He was wearing a dull teal nightshirt, the same attire worn by every other patient Himeko had seen—but it hung limply from his limbs, he was so skinny. His blonde hair was discolored and stringy, and unkempt locks of it were falling in his dark blue eyes, which were set upon the words of _A Christmas Carol_ , the book he was reading. He set the book down on the table beside his bed, and glumly sighed before staring out the window at the snow falling hard outside.

Himeko squinched her face in confusion. “I don’t get what the big deal is—”

“Shh!” Blossom whispered. “Just watch.” 

Just then, a girl passed the invisible Himeko and Blossom and slowly pushed open the door to 305. Himeko was shocked at who it was. “Gotukuji?” she exclaimed. “What’s _she_ doing here? She wasn’t _serious_ about going to the hospital, was she?”

The boy in the room jerked his head anxiously to the door, as if he was waiting all day to hear it shyly creak open. When he saw Miyako, his face brightened up immediately.  
“Hi, Taka-chan,” she said sheepishly.

“Miyako-chan, hi!” he said cheerfully. “I’m really glad you could make it.”

“I’m really glad I could come.” She thrust a small box into his lap, saying, “This is for you. I made them myself.”

Takaaki gingerly opened the box and carefully extracted what was inside. _Traditional Japanese sweet buns_. He looked back up at Miyako with a troubled expression. “Miyako-chan, you didn’t have to,” he said softly.

By then, Himeko had stepped inside the room, unseen, to take a closer look at what was unfolding inside. Miyako smiled mischievously as she drew a flat metal canteen and two skinny straws out of her skirt pocket.

She took a seat in a small chair by Takaaki’s bedside that Himeko hadn’t noticed before. “It’s hot chocolate—homemade, by oba-san,” she said. After unpacking all that she had with her, she sipped from her straw, and Takaaki took a small bite of sweet bun.

Takaaki smiled slyly. “Do you know how much trouble we could get into by bringing in foreign substances?” he said.

Miyako shrugged. “Yes,” she said flatly. “But I just couldn’t _live_ to see you eat hospital food. Not on Christmas.”

Takaaki laughed. “Should we toast?” he said, and Miyako smiled and held up the canteen in response. “To you, and to me, the Powerpuff Girls Z—” at this they both smiled knowingly. “—and to oba-san, and to my father.”

“ _Wherever_ he went,” Miyako grumbled.

He ignored her snide comment and continued. “To your parents, and my mom—may they forever rest in peace. Is that it?” Takaaki whispered softly.

“I have one more,” Miyako said. “Himeko-sama.”

Himeko gasped.

Takaaki knitted his eyebrows. “Himeko _Shirogane_? The rich girl in your class you’re always telling me stories about?”

Miyako nodded. “I don’t know. I just feel sorry that she isn’t spending Christmas with anyone. I mean, _her father sent her away_ on an expensive cruise. He’s almost worse than the conniving runaway you’ve got.”

Takaaki shrugged. “Fair enough.” There was silence in the room as Takaaki took a sip of hot chocolate from his straw.

Himeko loudly exclaimed, “You can’t toast _me_! I _stole_ from you!” Blossom looked over at Himeko, who had screamed herself red in the face, with a couple of lonely tears sliding down her freckled cheeks. But all that yelling was in vain, for Miyako and Takaaki couldn’t hear a single word.

“I don’t get it,” Himeko said. Her voice trembled as she cried. “He doesn’t even know me. Neither does Miyako, really. Why would they toast _me_?”

Blossom replied calmly, “Because they care about you.”

Himeko sighed and wiped tears from her face. “That Taka-chan has a good heart,” she finally said.

“Not really,” said Blossom offhandedly.

Himeko’s eyebrows drew together. “What’dya mean by that?”

Miyako had just taken a sip of hot chocolate when she asked lowly, “So I’ve been meaning to ask you—how are you feeling?”

Takaaki finished his fourth sweet bun. Miyako didn’t seem to mind that he was eating the majority of them. “No better, no worse. That’s what the doctors keep saying. I guess that’s supposed to be a good thing.” He paused for a while as Miyako’s eyes drifted morosely into her lap. “But—they’re trying out this new treatment, you know.”

Miyako’s countenance bolted up at that last. “Really? What is it?”

He went on, “It’s this new drug regimen. I’ve already started taking it.” He unbuttoned the top of his nightshirt and pulled back the flimsy fabric to show Miyako a needle just below his collarbone, and tubes fastened to his skin with tape. “Please don’t touch it.”

“I won’t.” Miyako gaped at it, amazed.

Himeko stared at Blossom. “Tell me, Blossom,” Himeko began, “Is that drug _really_ in Taka-chan’s IV?”

“There’s _a_ drug in there,” Blossom lazily replied, “but it isn’t going to do the things Takaaki says it’ll do. It’s morphine.”

There settled a moment of somber silence in the still air. Himeko said in a small voice, “Why would he lie to her, then? Why would he say he’s getting better when he’s actually getting _worse_?”

“Himeko, you have to understand were Takaaki’s coming from,” Blossom said. Her tone was almost gentle. “Takaaki-kun is like an older brother to Miyako. He just doesn’t want her to feel as hopeless as he does. Now, watch.”

Takaaki continued, “It’s experimental, like most drugs, but the doctors said I was a perfect candidate for it. It’s supposed to make my heart stronger—I’ve had so much more energy since it started kicking in.” He buttoned his shirt back up. “I’m still too weak to leave the hospital, though.”

Miyako sighed gloomily. “I figured that. I asked if I could take you out, just for Christmas, and the nurses bluntly refused. They keep you in for seven years, but they won’t let you go out for _one day_.” 

“Well, the only way they can regulate the medication is in the hospital. It’s really potent,” Takaaki explained. “So I’ll just have to hang in here for a little while until it starts _really_ working.” He grinned broadly at Miyako. “So it’s a small price to pay to get better, huh?”  
Miyako nodded. “I just wish it could’ve come out sooner, you know? Maybe then—then they could’ve saved your mom too.” Miyako said all of this plaintively, like a small child.

Takaaki drew in a shallow breath and said quietly, “It’s only just made it out of the lab earlier in the year. So it’s not like that, exactly.” He saw the grief written all over Miyako’s face and quickly said, “But hey. I don’t want to see you with your chin down. Not on Christmas.” He grinned at her, and she grinned back. “There’s nothing to be sad about. I’m gonna get better, right?”

“Right.”

Himeko looked somberly upon Takaaki. “Spirit…” she asked softly. “What’s wrong with Taka-chan, exactly?” Blossom turned to her. Himeko’s face seemed to be stained with genuine concern.

Blossom sucked in her breath. “No one knows _exactly_ , not even his doctors,” she said gently. “His heart has always been weak, and he’s prone to have frequent heart attacks. He’s on a lot of medication, but none of it seems to work.”

There was a long pause before Himeko spoke. “Blossom, tell me the truth,” she said. Her voice was completely deadpan. “How sick is that boy? He’s not going to _die_ , is he?”

Blossom shrugged, and her shawl shivered. “The future isn’t really my place of business,” she said. “But I’ll tell it to you straight, since you asked. Takaaki-kun—he’s pretty sick. Whatever way you look at it, he’s not going to live all that long. Maybe a few more months, but that’s it.”

Himeko was shocked. “But spirit, there must be something that can be done, some _medicine_ the doctors haven’t tried yet—”

“Look Himeko, there is no magic medicine. It just _doesn’t exist_.” Blossom went on, “the doctors are doing all they can, but they just don’t have the kind of resources they need for this sort of thing. All they can do right now is guess, and try to mitigate his symptoms.”

“But _guessing_ isn’t enough,” Himeko insisted. “Taka-chan needs a cure, why can’t the doctors find one?”

Blossom said rather acidly, “I told you, the doctors aren’t at fault here. Have you seen the research fund? They’re doing all they can with less than _four hundred thousand yen_ to work with.”

Himeko paused. “Four hundred thousand yen?” she asked softly.

Blossom took matters concerning Miyako and Takaaki rather personally, and her sharp tongue had a lot to say. “I know it doesn’t sound like much to you. But you have no idea how far money like that can go when it’s a kid like Takaaki’s health that’s on the line.”  
That seemed to silence Himeko, and she settled to watch some more.

“Hey, Taka-chan,” Miyako said, taking his hand. She wore the very ghost of a smile. “I want you to know that I’m here to reach out to. Like, if you need someone to talk to.”

Takaaki seemed slightly taken aback. But his face soon relaxed into a smile, and he took Miyako into his arms and pulled her into a tight hug. “Thank you, Miyako-chan,” he whispered quietly into her ear.

Miyako was the first to break the hug. “You know, Taka-chan, I can stitch in a perfectly straight line now,” Miyako said in a very small voice. She showed him the bottom hem of her skirt. “Almost like oba-san.”

Takaaki smiled. “You’re really getting pretty good, huh?” he said, and Miyako nodded proudly. “But what I’d really like is to hear you sing.”

Miyako blushed. “What should I sing?”

Takaaki shrugged. He was still smiling at her. “Anything you want. How ‘bout a Christmas song?”

“I don’t know any good Christmas songs,” she protested.

“Fine. Then sing anything you want.”

Miyako sat up straighter in her chair. She took a big breath, and began “Amazing Grace” in a very high, pure voice. She had a very delicate, pretty voice. So did Takaaki—he chimed in as well. His heart may have been weak, but his lungs had yet to fail him. He sang in a strong tenor, in about the same register as when he spoke.

Himeko could have stood there, listening to the two of them talk and sing all night long. But because Blossom nudged her, it was time to leave. “This is only the beginning,” she reminded Himeko. “There is so much more to see, and we’re already running late.” Himeko strained to hear the last of “Amazing Grace” but eventually it had completely faded out of her ears. She was swept into the night yet again as the spirit was changing the scenery to that of another place.

By the time the intertwined melody of Takaaki and Miyako's voices had finally disappeared, Himeko could recognize that she was in a different distinct place. It was a dormitory—furnished lavishly with dark, polished wood and royal blue drapes, despite the room's tiny size. Although Himeko noted that this was probably augmented by the five girls sitting on matching blue carpet—a crowd of legs and nightgowns talking and giggling on the floor. And in the center of the cluster was a familiar face—  
"Miko!" Himeko cried out. "Blossom, I told you, that's my sister."

"Do you miss her tonight?"

"Of course I miss her," Himeko said without thinking. "You should meet her, in person. She can talk to anyone about anything. Science, politics, you name it."

Blossom remarked, "You could have talked to her tonight."

Himeko's breath caught in her throat. "I could have. But instead I'm here with you."  
"Yes. Instead you're here with me."

The college girls were having fun, talking and laughing. Himeko vaguely followed their conversation, until Miko rose up from her spot on the rug.

"You know what, girls? We should play a game!" she said.

"Ooh, yeah!" one of the girls chimed in excitedly. "I haven’t had a free night in so many months, a game sounds like fun."

"How about Pictionary?"

One of Miko's friends volunteered to go first. Himeko forgot that she was excluded from the game, and began guessing aloud.

"A drum? An umbrella? I don't know, a cauliflower wearing a dress?!" Himeko laughed along with their laughing; until—

"It's Miko's little sister!" one of the girls cried out. She had won, and the Christmas spirit that had filled Himeko's chest a minute ago had escaped her lungs, leaving her as winded as if someone had punched her in the stomach. Even Miko was laughing along at the caricature. To see this hurt Himeko deeply, and she shot Blossom a poisonous look.

"Oh, we're being too cruel," Miko said to her friends. 

"Cruel?" the artist said incredulously. "What's cruel, is that Himeko doesn't even bother to send you a word, even though you spend your wages on a gift for her every year. That's cruel."

"Himeko's not a monster, she's just incredibly isolated," Miko said gently. "We all know what it's like to be all alone in a big house. That's Himeko—all the time."  
"She could have been here," one of the college girls remarked. "But this is the second year she's turned you down, Miko."

Miko did not have a response to that. 

The conversation shifted to discussion of a cute senpai from St. Cecilia's brother school. But Miko's friends noticed that she had checked out of the conversation, and they asked her what was on her mind. 

"I just wonder what Himeko is up to right now," Miko confessed. "I offered to show her around college, and then eventually bring her here to hang out with us. But she wasn't interested." She sighed. "I'm sure Mom and Dad have planned something special for her, and that's why she didn't come."

Miko's friends looked at her with concern—but didn't have much to say to her. "Would it make you feel better to toast her, Miko?" one of the girls suggested.

Miko filled everyone's glasses with an ounce of golden liquid from a single beer bottle. "To Himeko—may she be happy on the path she has chosen!"

* * *

The sight and sound faded from Himeko's perception, and she waited for another place to come looming into view. But it did not. Himeko called out for Blossom, but the spirit was delayed in her response. Her eyes adjusted quickly enough to the dusky alleyway illuminated by a single distant streetlamp. The air was moist with icky humidity and the air thick with rancid smells. Himeko did not even want to know what kind of grime her fuzzy slippers were stepping in. 

"Spirit?" Himeko said even louder. Her calls seemed futile as they were swallowed up by the night—but Blossom eventually stepped into view.

Himeko's words did not make it out of her throat. "My time with you is very brief, you know," Blossom said dryly.

"How brief?" asked Himeko in a strained voice.

"It ends tonight."

"Tonight? Blossom—does that mean you're going to leave me?" Himeko exclaimed.

"It might," Blossom replied cryptically. "It's up to you whether I truly leave you or not." She paused to bask in Himeko's utter confusion. "In any case, you will not be left alone."

“Thank you,” Himeko said meekly. Blossom said nothing in response—but the moonlight highlighted the quiet smirk upon the spirit's lips. Blossom pointed to something behind Himeko, and she whirled around. 

Himeko gasped. Standing in front of her were the three haggard boys that she had seen earlier that night, during their thanksgiving dinner—and begging at the window of the Shirogane manor. These boys were feral—their torn, dirty clothes now looked more gray than red, blue or green. They were animals—and their gleaming eyes seemed to burn right into Himeko's soul. As if they knew something she didn't. 

"Aren't these Mojo's children?" Himeko asked timidly. 

"They are Man's," Blossom replied darkly. "But they cling to me."

"I know them," Himeko said. "They're—the Rowdyruff Boys?"

"You may know them as such," Blossom answered. "But the rest of us know them as "Ignorance—" the green one, "Want—" the blue, and "Demise—" the red. "It's best that you beware them all—but most seriously this boy—" she warned, pointing to Ignorance— "for he is making the green one red."

"Spirit, this must be a mistake!" Himeko exclaimed, and Blossom raised a subtle eyebrow at her. "If Mojo Jojo cares for these boys as much as you showed me, then how did they turn out like this?"

Blossom snickered. "He doesn't care for them. No one does. Mojo Jojo and HIM only care about what they can do—not who they are," she said.

"I never knew," Himeko said shamefully.

"Yeah—we get that a lot," Blossom said spitefully. "I have to go now. But take this time to know them better, Himeko Shirogane!"

Blossom turned on her heel and launched into the sky. It wasn't long before Ignorance, Want and Demise had encircled her and forced her to the ground. She screamed, but they didn't seem to hear her. She felt like a ghost herself—like she was already dead, and these were the wolves feasting on her carcass. She was on the ground, pinned under the weight of all three of them. Their three looming faces clouded her vision. The last Himeko saw of the second spirit was a pink ribbon stretching across the pale gray sky of dawn.


	4. STAVE IV.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Himeko's final hope for redemption arrives as Buttercup takes the form of the Ghost of Christmas Future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The majority of this chapter was written probably 2016. The very end is from just one week ago, as well the rest of this story. Enjoy!

Miyako waited anxiously at the window to Blossom to arrive. It seemed that every time she looked back at Kaoru, her friend was checking her watch. Eventually Blossom did arrive, and her two fellow Powerpuffs looked to her expectantly. Blossom grinned and whispered excitedly, "Two down—one to go!" She transformed back into Momoko.

Both of Kaoru's friends looked to her expectantly. Kaoru shifted uncomfortably. "Why can't there be two spirits?" she complained. 

"Because that's not the way the story goes, and you know it," Miyako said. 

Kaoru sighed and transformed into Buttercup. She took a few steps back, and one deep breath before taking a running start out the open window. 

"WAIT!!"

Buttercup stopped short, tripping over herself. If she hadn't stopped short she might've fallen out the open window. "Momoko, what?"

"Don't you think you should utilize a costume, of some sort? I mean, it's not every night that you get to play the role of a spooky specter—you should at least dress up for the occasion."

Buttercup breathed out a huge sigh. "Fine." She shuffled over to the closet and pulled out a black robe on a hanger. She slipped it over her clothes and put the hood up, which cast a deathly shadow over most of her face. 

"Mange?"

"It's gotten a little small for you."

"What? It's from my childhood." Buttercup turned toward the window again, and sprinted toward it, ready to spring from the ground. 

"WAIT!!!"

Buttercup spun around again to face Miyako. "What now?" she said, delightfully sarcastic.

"One more thing." Miyako ripped off a rectangle of duct tape and pressed it over Buttercup's mouth. "For purposes of character," she explained. 

Buttercup gave them a thumbs up, unable to speak. She jogged a few paces and launched her slender body out the open window, her cape trailing elegantly behind. The girls didn't stop her.

* * *

As Himeko regained consciousness, and a wave of icy cold rushed over her. Ignorance, Want and Demise were all gone. She wondered if she'd dreamed it—concocted it all in her head. But there was still no explanation for why she was lying on the pavement of a dirt-poor neighborhood in the dead of night.

"Third spirit?" Himeko cried out, getting up. Her legs ached, and her head was spinning with confusion and delirium. "Third spirit! Are you ther—" 

Himeko almost had the wind knocked out of her as she bumped into Buttercup's silky black robes. She spoke softly, "Are you the Spirit of Christmas Yet to Come?"

_Nod._

"And you are to show me the things that will happen on Christmases in the Future?"

_Nod._

"Do you speak English?"

_Nod._

"Then why don't you speak to me?"

_Purposes of character,_ Buttercup thought to herself. She placed a hand on Himeko's shoulder and they disappeared into thin air in the middle of the musky avenue.

* * *

The pair arrived on the street of a familiar, middle class neighborhood. A teenage girl of Himeko's age stood on the steps of an apartment building, waiting as her friend emerged from the door. 

Buttercup and Himeko recognized the girls right away. 

"I never would have thought that Fumika and Hanayo would live around here," Himeko said under her breath. But the spirit just pointed at the two girls and urged Himeko to quit talking and watch. 

"Did you hear?"

"Of course I heard. It was in every tabloid there is!"

"When did she die?"

"Last night, I think."

"I can't believe she was attacked in the street."

"Did you catch anything on the family? How are her parents and sister reacting to it?"

"They took it hard. Locked themselves in the manor, said the press."

"Do you know what they did with the money? Her college fund, savings, all that stuff?"

"Beats me. I'm sure it's not going to charity!" 

"Ha ha ha!"

"When's the funeral again?"

"Tomorrow. Are you gonna go?"

"Wasn't planning on it—I'll go if you go though."

"Nah. Forget I even mentioned the idea."

"Well—I mean the family's private catering company makes delicious pies. I might go for that."

"I don't even think I'd go for the food. I mean, what would people think of us if someone from school saw us there?"

"Oh yeah—you're totally right. We can't go then."

"How rude!" Himeko shouted after them. "Disrespecting the dead like that. They should be ashamed to have stooped to that level—it's just plain unprofessional. I ought to give them both a piece of my mind, you know." Himeko’s head bowed. Something about what they were talking about made her feel hollow inside—but she couldn’t figure out what it was that the two girls said that made her so vaguely empty. Himeko mustered the courage to speak. “Buttercup, please—there has to be someone out there that shows tenderness for death—and a _nod_ of assent came forth from the spirit.

“Please, if you can—I need to see them.”

Buttercup grasped Himeko tightly on the arm, immediately granting her wish.

* * *

Buttercup brought them both to a place she herself was quite familiar with—but a place that was alien to Himeko. A girl was sitting cross-legged at her desk, writing slowly but furiously—as told by the layers of heavy concentration on her face. Her yellow curls shook as her arm pumped words upon words from her pen. 

A rapping on the bedroom door broke Miyako Gotukuji's focus. 

"Come in, Oba-san."

Her grandmother stepped into the neat, spacious room, and Miyako turned away from the work to face her. "Your two friends brought you notes from school," she said, placing today's stack of books and papers atop the other stacks of books and papers. "By tomorrow you'll have all your texts at home...won't that be a load to take back into school." Miyako cracked a tiny smile. "What's that that you're working on?" Oba-san said, lifting a wrinkled finger to the paper on Miyako's desk. 

"Uh, just a composition for my English class."

"Can I see what you've got so far? Read it out to me."

Miyako tentatively lifted the corner of the page. She could easily lie—but not to Oba-san. So she translated to Japanese:

_"She knew as soon as she walked in that it would be Cody's last day. Miya could see his spirit visibly waning. In his back, slumped low into the pillows of his hospital bed; in his eyes, which uncharacteristically stared into a lot of nothing—"_

"I think that's enough," her grandmother said abruptly. "I suggest that you change those names if you're turning this in for school." Miyako did not respond. "But I know that if you're hurting, you need to talk. Why didn't you let your friends come up and see you?"

"Because they don't understand, Oba-san," Miyako said. Miyako-chan was in the room with Oba-san when Takaaki passed. Miyako couldn’t help but think about how Rolling Bubbles was able to save every resident of Tokyo City—and Taka-chan’s heart finally just gave out after a seventeen-year run. She wondered vaguely how Blossom and Bubbles would fare as a superhero duo.

Miyako hesitated before speaking. "I—I went to where he was buried, earlier today. And I baked cakes and brought them there, you know, to put with the flowers. But I had to bring the box home. I always share with him—but I knew if I didn't eat them, the critters would." She shuddered at the thought of Taka-chan's grave becoming a dinner table for animals.

"You know that it's okay to go inside when it starts to rain."

"I feel like I'm leaving him out there," Miyako said plaintively. "It's not fair that I can go inside and he can't."

"I caught you in the middle of a storm, Miyako-chan," her grandmother said gently. It was only then that Himeko noticed that her blonde hair was in the process of drying. "You would be the last person he'd want to catch cold."

Miyako cracked a hint of a smile. It quickly dissipated as a lightning bolt flashed outside her window, rekindling the memory slightly. "Before you drove up and got me," she said, "I was—I was talking to him. About school, and the service, and how grass was already starting to grow under me, or over him—" her startling blue eyes stared into the glass. It was just dark enough that Miyako could see a hint of her own reflection. "How pathetic is that?"

"You aren't pathetic," Oba-san answered. "I did the same thing when your Oji-san passed, and when your parents passed too. You can be pathetic like your grandmother in a lot of ways—but that isn't one of them."

"Oba-san, do you—um," Miyako stammered, "do you want to go downstairs and eat what's left of my cakes? They're not too badly rained on," she said.

"I'd love to," said Oba-san with a wide smile.

"I think that—he's with his mother now," Miyako said quietly as the pair began down the stairs.

"Miyako-chan." Her grandmother halted, and kissed her granddaughter on the forehead. "Do you know that I’m proud of you? You’re more mature right now at fifteen than most people will be in their entire lives."

Miyako smiled faintly. It was almost invisible as the pair disappeared into the shadow made by the staircase. 

Himeko shut her eyes tightly and shook her head till it bubbled like a shaken-up carbonated drink. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she said meekly. “Takaaki-kun wasn’t supposed to die.” When she gingerly raised her head, tears streamed down her face, although they were hard to see in the dark. Buttercup said nothing and transported her to another place.

* * *

Himeko found herself with Buttercup on a street on the outskirts of Tokyo. Himeko knew she was far from the heart of the city because of the quiet. It wasn’t raining, but the pavement was still wet and the sky still hung with dreary gray. There were a total of two parked cars on the street—one of them right in front of an equally dreary two-story construction. It wasn’t that the plain brown brick building hadn’t been properly renovated—but Himeko realized that a funeral home could only be so spectacular. 

The spirit pointed to the entrance.

Himeko shuddered, and it wasn’t because of the cool night air. “You–you want that I go in?” Buttercup nodded under her slick black cloak, and unwaveringly pointed to the ancient wooden door. 

Himeko stepped inside.

She could count on a four-fingered hand how many people were in the room. Mr. and Mrs. Shirogane and their elder daughter were dressed in fanciful black, crying over the casket in solitude, under the watchful eye of supposedly the funeral home director.

It was quiet, save the melodrama of sobbing. 

The spirit appeared beside Himeko. Her gaze followed the spirit’s arm from shoulder to the pointed finger that was hanging limply in the air, pointing to the casket. 

Mournfully, Himeko looked back at the spirit. “I don’t have to _look inside_ , do I?” she asked in a voice that rose from a pit in her stomach. 

The spirit’s steadfast finger served as her reply. Himeko felt the pit deepen. Walking nearly heel to toe, she took hesitant baby steps toward the casket.

An urgent shove hit her in the back from behind. Falling forward, Himeko felt her knees buckle—they hit the cushion of the kneeler before the casket. 

Immediately, she was smacked in the face with the smell of a strong, post-mortem perfume. Before she could look away, or tell her eyes not to focus--they were fixed upon the face of the person only three people were mourning. 

“No…”

She couldn’t look. Instead, she fixed her eyes on the figure’s red Mary Janes that only reached halfway down the length of the casket. She focused on the dozens of familiar stuffed animals that filled up the remaining space. 

The face--though she only laid eyes on it for a second--was something Himeko couldn’t unsee. Her own eyes, heavily made up. An atrociously hot-pink lipstick she would never, _ever_ wear. And powder over pale skin, doing a terrible job covering up cuts and scrapes made by someone’s angry hand. Hair arranged down around her neck--but only to draw less attention to the hollow crater that a crowbar or something must have made in the back of her head. 

Already on her knees--Himeko curled into herself, shrinking back from the casket and onto the floor. The spirit’s flimsy black robes were at her feet, so she grabbed onto them, the only thing left in a world that was seeming to grow blurry. 

A hint of Buttercup’s distinctive green Powerpuff-style shoe nudged her in the ribs. It only made Himeko cling tighter to her cloak.

“No, Spirit!” she cried. She began to feel the hot tears make their way down her cheeks. “It can’t end like this, it just can’t…”

Buttercup’s foot had disappeared back under her robes. But when Himeko looked up, she could see her green eyes glowing under her hood--like an animal’s amidst headlights. Illuminated below them was a piece of duct tape over her mouth. Her message was clear. She didn’t have any plans to answer Himeko. 

But Himeko couldn’t help but plea anyway. She couldn’t stop herself. “Spirit, I can’t go out like this...my entire life, and people don’t even miss me if I’m gone--most of them, they’d be _h-happy if I died!_ ” By this point, her crying had progressed into audible wailing. “It ca-an’t end like this, there has to be so-ome way to change it!”

She dared to look back up at the spirit’s face. “I can change it, I can change this!” she wailed. “I swear, if I can change this, I will!”

Himeko had noticed that the light in ghost’s expressionless green eyes had begun to dim significantly. This unhinged Himeko’s flustered brain. 

“I can, I can change it, and I will!” she shouted. “Are you leaving me now, Spirit? Please don’t leave me!!” She felt the hot tears on her face once again. “I’ve learned what you taught me! What all three of you taught me! I won’t shut out the lessons you came to teach, just please, let me know, send me a sign, that I can do something to change this! Tell me this isn’t fate!”

Just as Himeko spoke her last word, she looked up. Buttercup’s face seemed so far away from her place on the ground. Her glowing green eyes had almost dimmed into nothing. 

Himeko tried to speak again, but it seemed that her jaw was paralyzed. Or at least, when she tried to open it, it would not obey her. It might have been more accurate to say that it felt as if it were _wired shut_. 

Abruptly, Buttercup’s face turned up, toward the ceiling. Only it wasn’t a ceiling anymore, because the two now appeared to be outside. The spirit was looking up at a grayish sky that was just beginning to be tinged by pink. 

Himeko whimpered, although she was incapable of making any real sound. She wanted to ask the ghost if this is what it felt like to die. She wanted to ask the ghost what she was looking at. 

The light from Buttercup’s eyes finally went out. Her face was invisible to Himeko--but it seemed that her entire figure had vanished from her robes. Himeko watched as they lingered in the air for a moment--then began to collapse on top of her. They were going to crush her--

Himeko shut her eyes, screaming through her wire-shut mouth. She braced for impact.

* * *

“Did--did it work?”

“I don’t know, okay? First I was there with her, and then I looked up at the sky and realized it was dawn already.”

“Do you think...you got cut off or something? In the dream?”

“I just--I don’t know, alright?”

“Maybe we just...ran out of time?”


	5. STAVE V.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Himeko wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone!  
> The final stave! this was written in 2018.

Himeko could not move. 

After the spirit’s collapse, she was enveloped in darkness. Not knowing exactly where she was, her consciousness was swimming in some sort of void, until finally it broke the surface.

She opened her eyes.

She hadn’t known they were closed. It was still dark, and it was quiet--but she had movement in her limbs again. The first thing she did was unclench her fists--which were clutching some sort of cloth so hard her nails were digging into her palms. She was hot. She kicked around for a while until the sheet became dislodged from her head, and she was able to breathe again. 

After taking the first look around--she saw that she was back in her own bedroom. 

And she was very much far from being dead. 

Himeko felt a strong force lift her heart back into her chest. She exhaled a deep sigh. “I’m...alive,” she said to herself. She couldn’t help but smile. “I’m back...I’m _alive_!”

A knock rapped on the door. “Himeko-sama!” came a maid’s voice from behind. “Are you alright in there?”

It took a moment for her to process the voice. She really was back. She never felt so relieved to have someone interrupt her sleep. “Yes!” Himeko yelled at the door. “I’m alright. Please, do come in!”

Tentatively, the door creaked open. The timid maid standing in the doorway gasped. “Himeko-sama--”

At first, Himeko’s brow crinkled. But she realized then, that she must have looked very silly still sitting on the floor, tangled in his own bedsheets. She laughed, and quickly rose to her feet. “I just had a strange dream, that's all,” Himeko said, remembering her night with the Powerpuff Girls Z. “What day is it today?”

The maid--who was still too hesitant to enter the room--answered her question from the doorway. She seemed baffled by the question itself. “Why, it’s Christmas Day, Miss.”

“Christmas...day?” Himeko repeated. “The spirits...they must have done it all in one night! Well,” she reasoned to herself, “they can do whatever they like, I guess. They _are_ the Powerpuff Girls Z!”

“Spirits? The Powerpuff Girls Z…?” The poor maid looked absolutely perplexed--and with a deep seated concern for Himeko. “Do you need me to find the royal doctor, Himeko-sama?”

“Doctor?” Himeko asked, bewildered. “No. No doctor. That won't be necessary,” she said instantly. “If you can though, could you please find my father for me? I'd like to speak to him.”

The maid was already backing away from the room. She appeared eager to have a job to do, a reason to leave. She nodded vigorously and immediately left to fill Himeko’s request. 

“Wait, hold on! Before you go,” Himeko called. She rooted around in her nightstand drawer as the unsettled maid returned. Himeko pulled out a five thousand yen note, and handed it to the maid.

The maid stared at the note for a few seconds, before gingerly raising her head in shock. “I’m sorry,” she said, “What is this for?”

“It’s for your trouble,” Himeko replied with a smile. “Merry Christmas, to you and your family,” she said. 

The woman stared down at the bank note for a moment. Himeko saw tears begin to well up in her eyes. “Thank you, Himeko-sama. I--I will go and find your Father for you. Merry Christmas to you as well.” And with that, she exited the doorway and left. 

Himeko smiled. Not too wide--this wasn’t much compared to what she planned to do today. After smiling, she only then noticed that she was still wearing her nightgown. She quickly changed her clothes and fixed her hair. For once, she barely cared about the fact that she was repeating an outfit.

* * *

After exiting her bedroom, Himeko was again met by the maid--who was still smiling, now with Himeko’s confused father in tow. 

Once the two Shiroganes were standing alone in the grand main hallway, Himeko’s father turned to her. “Himeko, darling. I was told you wanted to see me...what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Daddy,” Himeko said immediately. “Merry Christmas!”

“...Merry Christmas to you too, darling,” he said, baffled. “Is...there a reason you wanted to see me? Are you packed to leave for your cruise yet?”

“Yes! Well, no, I’m actually not packed. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” she said. “I know it’s such late notice, but I really don’t want to go on that cruise all by myself. Is there any way you can cancel it?”

“But...you told me you wanted to go on this cruise because you said you’d be bored at home,” he said slowly. “If you’re afraid to go by yourself, I can find some of our maids to accompany you--”

“I know what I said before--and I’m sorry to be changing my mind so late,” she said. “But things are different now. I can’t just go on a cruise ship with the maids for two months. I need to stay home and spend Christmas break with you and Mommy.”

“Oh,” her father said, astounded. “Well--typically the cruise company doesn’t allow cancellations this late. But I’m sure we can get our money back for it soon enough. However--this cruise was supposed to be your Christmas gift this year,” Mr. Shirogane said, crestfallen. “Without it, I don’t have a big gift to give you today.”

“That’s okay,” Himeko said right away. She looked inquisitively back at her father. “If you’d like, though--could you give me some of the money you spent on the cruise? In cash?” 

Himeko’s father looked at her, stunned. “Um. I’m sure that can be arranged,” he said carefully. “I can give it to you by the evening, if that’s alright.”

“Well--most days, that _would be_ fine. But today, I’m going to need it this morning after breakfast, by the time I leave,” she said. 

“I can do it before I start work today,” he said. 

“Thank you so much, Dad,” Himeko gushed, opening her arms to hug her father. 

Mr. Shirogane seemed surprised by her embrace--but soon relaxed his arms around his daughter. “Anything for you, Himeko,” he said. He hesitated, before saying-- “If you’d like Mommy or I to make sure you aren’t bored over the break--you have our cell phone numbers, you can just call us.”

Himeko smiled wide. She couldn’t help it this time. “I will. Don’t worry,” she said to him, smiling wide. “You can expect to get a call from me, for sure.”

* * *

After breakfast, Mr. Shirogane gave Himeko the money she asked for--packed to the brim in one of her mother’s larger purses. After generously tipping every maid she encountered on her way out, Himeko made her way to her purple limousine, which was parked in the wide driveway outside the mansion. 

Just before climbing in the back seat--she felt a tap on her shoulder. Himeko turned around. 

Before her stood a young boy perhaps ten years old. He was wearing a scientist’s lab coat, and holding a basket full of chocolate bars. A small dog trailed behind him without a leash. 

“Hullo, Himeko-sama,” he said, as politely as his age would allow. “Would you like to buy a Boy Scout chocolate bar? My troop is raising money for the Tokyo City orphanage.”

“Oh?” Himeko asked, inspecting the bars. “What a kind thing to do. What’s your name?”

“Me? My name is Ken Utonium. And this is Peach,” the boy said, referencing his dog. 

Himeko was already digging in her mother’s purse and counting out some of the bank notes inside. She tucked them into Ken’s basket without any hesitation. This prompted Ken’s—and Peach’s seemingly as well—eyes to go wide. 

“I—that money buys thirty bars, miss,” Ken said, flabbergasted. “I don't think we have enough on us to give you in exchange!”

Himeko smiled as she took a chocolate bar out of the boy’s basket. “That's more than alright,” she said. “Keep the change. Merry Christmas!”

“M—Merry Christmas! Thank you!” Ken shouted over Himeko’s shoulder as she walked away and boarded her limousine, a piece of chocolate candy already in her mouth.

* * *

The old nurse stood behind the desk in shock. She looked to the younger nurse behind her--and then back at Himeko, who was on the other side of the nursing station at Tokyo City Hospital. 

“You want to make an eight million yen donation--to the Golden Heart Foundation?” she stammered through astonishment.

“I’m sure I have the name right,” Himeko said. 

“I--of course you do,” the older nurse said with blatant surprise. She gestured vigorously to the younger nurse behind her, urging her to get some paperwork for Himeko. “It’s just--this particular research fund obviously doesn’t get a lot of attention, in comparison to the more common cardiac disorders. Not many people come to donate. You are the first to do so, in quite a long time.”

“That’s a shame,” Himeko replied. 

“It is,” the older nurse replied. With a shaking hand, she penned in Himeko’s donation. “The hospital doesn’t know how to thank you and the Shirogane family for your kindness,” she said. “You should be receiving a pretty gratuitous thank you note from the foundation in the mail sometime soon!” she said with a hearty laugh. “Although there is really no sufficient thanks that we can really give you.”

“A thank you letter is more than enough,” Himeko said, smiling.

“No. It isn’t, really,” the older nurse said. “You see, we have a young patient on this floor with one of these rare heart conditions—we’ve been treating him for many years now. He will be very excited to hear about your generosity. It will help fund the experimental treatments that help other children with the same disease.”

Himeko cocked her head in confusion. “Your patient though...won’t he receive these experimental treatments as well?”

The nurse sighed. “Unfortunately, not as it stands now,” she said as she watched Himeko’s eyes widen in alarm. “His parents are dead, and he is an orphan. The government insurance that pays for his care at this hospital doesn’t cover it.” She returned her attention to Himeko’s donation form. 

Himeko’s heart sank. She said hastily, “This might be too much to ask, but--do you think I could meet the young man?”

The two nurses looked at each other uneasily. “I’m not sure if that’s such a great idea,” the older nurse said. “His health is very volatile at the moment, I’m afraid. Strangers visiting might not be the best thing for him right now.”

Upon seeing the disappointment on Himeko’s face, the younger nurse replied, “We can _ask_ him if it’s alright that you enter the room. Although it’ll have to be a brief visit.”

Himeko’s face recovered. “I only need five minutes,” she replied.

* * *

Inside Takaaki’s hospital room, snips of paper cutouts littered the floor. 

Takaaki put down the scissors. As he opened up the paper snowflake he’d just finished cutting, he held his breath--then released it as a relieved sigh upon revealing the perfect shape inside.

Miyako opened hers a second later--accidentally ripping the paper as she did so. 

Her small lips twitched a moment--before tossing the snowflake into the garbage can. “You have a skilled hand that I don’t, Taka-chan,” she said, wiping the morose look off her face to smile at him.

Takaaki gave her a brief, concerned smile. “You seem--preoccupied today. Is everything alright?”

Miyako looked back at him with wide eyes. “I’m fine,” she said, smoothing out her face. “I just--didn’t really get much sleep last night. So forgive me if I seem tired. I’m really okay, though.”

Takaaki seemed only partially convinced of that last. “Sleep is important, Miyako-chan,” Takaaki tsk tsked. “Your studies can wait, if you’re not getting a good enough night’s rest.”

“It’s not really like that, exactly,” she replied airily. Miyako couldn’t get her mind off the dream she and the girls had at the sleepover. She wanted to believe it was all real.

“Well--just make sure you catch up on it,” he said, seeming still a little troubled by Miyako’s behavior.

Miyako smiled briefly at him, then grabbed the scissors to try for another snowflake. “I will, Taka-chan,” she said. “Don’t worry about me.”

A gentle knock on the door brought their conversation to a close. 

Takaaki’s brows drew to a tight crinkle. He looked at the clock by his bedside. “I’m not due to take any medications till twelve o’clock,” he said to Miyako, slightly perplexed. He called out to the nurse, inviting her in anyway. 

The smiling young nurse from the desk appeared on the opposite side of the door. “Takaaki-kun. I’ve got great news. A philanthropist has just made a gratuitous donation of eight million yen to the Golden Heart Foundation. If you’re up for it today, she’d very much like to come in and meet you.”

Miyako and Takaaki looked at each other. An inkling of hope was forming in Miyako’s mind. Takaaki was simply reeling. “Uh--of course. Let her come in. I’d like to meet her as well.”

Miyako’s face brightened up in both delight and awe when Himeko Shirogane shyly entered the room. 

“Merry Christmas, Miyako-san,” she said, with as much etiquette as she could. “Hi, Takaaki. I’m Himeko Shirogane. Pleased to meet you.” 

She held out her hand, and Takaaki went to shake it. “I know who _you_ are, Himeko-sama,” he said. “The nurse said you...donated to our research fund?” 

“I did, yes,” she replied modestly. “I’ve been told that the Foundation has been in need of some much needed support for a while now.”

“I--can’t thank you enough, Himeko-sama,” he said. “You have no idea how far this money will go in terms of research and clinical trials.”

“Well, I’m also hoping that it will reach you specifically, Takaaki. Despite what I’ve been told about your financial situation, and the insurance you currently have. In other words--I’d really like to see you benefit from the experimental treatments I’m donating to,” Himeko said. 

Takaaki stared at Himeko, nonplussed. “If I go into a clinical trial--you want to pay my bills?” he asked, stunned. 

“Exactly,” Himeko responded.

“I--” Takaaki looked to Miyako without an answer--then back at Himeko. “Why?”

“Well, I guess because it doesn’t hurt me to give you some help,” she said. She felt the pang of shame from her actions at St. Nicolette’s from years ago. “And because I’d really like to see you benefit from my donation to the Foundation. I’d really like to see you get well, Takaaki.”

“I--I’m sorry,” Takaaki apologized. He was still at a loss for words. “Could--I have a couple minutes to myself to think about all this?”

Himeko was somewhat surprised that he didn’t accept her offer right away. “Alright,” she said, and gingerly stepped out of the room to respect his and Miyako-san’s privacy. 

Once the door closed, silence filled the room once again. Miyako turned to Takaaki with a softened expression. “What’s wrong, Taka-chan?”

“I’m sorry,” Takaaki answered fretfully, “I just--can’t let her do that. I can’t accept that money. Not when so much of the hospital’s funding has gone to me already. I’ve been a horseleech for the past seven years.”

Miyako’s lips were slightly parted. “You are _not_ a leech,” she said indignantly. 

He sighed deeply. “Even if I’m not,” Takaaki said quietly into his lap, “--what if it doesn’t work?”

Her face winced at the thought. “I’m sure Himeko knows there’s a chance it won’t work,” she replied gently. “But like she said--it doesn’t hurt her to help you. You could give it a try though, can’t you?” 

“I’m already trying out a treatment, and it’s working,” he muttered, fumbling with his shirt collar, near his central IV. His eyes remained on his knees. 

“Taka-chan,” Miyako said in a beaten-down voice. “Please don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes now. I’m not stupid.”

Takaaki looked up at her in alarm. For a moment, he stared at Miyako--whose round face was resting within a disillusioned expression. 

He put his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, Miyako...”

“I know you are,” she said immediately. “All we’re asking you to do is try. You can change your mind later if you want to.”

“I just,” he grappled, “I don’t know how I’m going to pay her back for this…”

“I’m sure you can talk with Himeko-sama, and you two will figure out something,” Miyako said hopefully. “I think she’d want you to focus on getting well, though. You could do that, right?”

Takaaki was nodding as he ran his nervous fingers through his hair. A sniffling noise came from his doubled-over figure, and when he picked his head back up again, his face was red and wet.

Miyako wrapped her arms round his thin shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. 

In a rough voice, he said, “I can do that.”

* * *

Himeko stood behind a different door. A construction paper cutout of a heart held Miko’s name. Another held the name of a dorm roommate that Himeko had never even bothered to ask about before this point--something she immediately felt ashamed of. 

Her stomach fluttered. She rapped on the door three times before she could convince herself otherwise. 

From behind the door, she could hear shuffling, and chattering, and laughing, until it finally swung open, revealing a surprised Miko on the inside.

Her jaw hung open. “Himeko…”

“Hi,” Himeko responds awkwardly. “I know I didn’t even tell you I was on my way--so I’m sorry about that…”

“No, really, it’s fine,” Miko responded immediately through the door. It was then that Himeko noticed the faces behind her--all holding some variation of disgust at the sight of Himeko. “I just--”

“I--came to celebrate Christmas with you. If the invitation isn’t still in place, I totally understand, though--”

“--of course it is,” Miko replied right away, without even consulting any of the bewildered faces behind her. “Come on in,” she said. 

Himeko stepped into the room. Her eyes were fixed on the whiteboard, and the crude caricature of herself drawn on it in Expo marker. 

Miko, along with the rest of the girls, followed her gaze. Miko’s pale face became very red, and she looked helplessly back at her sister. 

Himeko first let out a chuckle--then let it evolve into a laugh. “I’m not that short anymore, y’know,” she said cheekily. 

Miko stood there, stunned for a moment. She looked to the other girls--then finally recovered her gaze. She took a step closer to her sister to more closely examine her height. “Are you really, now?” she asked. 

Himeko nodded. “I’ve grown a half a foot since the last time we saw each other.”

Miko chuckled under her breath. She turned to her group of friends. “Guys, this is Himeko, my little sister. Who my friend here tried to draw, but apparently failed,” she said with a laugh.

Himeko gave a shy wave. The artist hid her face bashfully. 

“Well, if you’re staying a while--would you like to hop into the game?” Miko asked. “You know how to play Pictionary, don’t you?”

Himeko grinned broadly. “I’d love to.”

Miko looked at her sister squarely.. “I’m really glad you could make it, Himeko,” she said softly. “Let’s see if you can do a better job drawing me than we can drawing you!”

* * *

Himeko kept her word. She was as good a friend, as good a master, as good a classmate as anyone could have ever been. Mr. and Mrs. Shirogane spent the rest of their lives speaking proudly of _both_ their well-spoken daughters--especially Himeko, the social advocate and philanthropist. And to Takaaki, who did NOT die, she was like a little sister--

Himeko opened the large front door to the main foyer of the Shirogane manor. 

“Hi! I’m so glad you could make it!” 

Through the door, Himeko hugged Miyako, and then Takaaki. She showed them both into the grand central hallway, which was beautifully decorated from floor to high ceiling in the spirit of Christmas. 

“We wouldn’t miss your Christmas party, Himeko,” Miyako replied politely. 

“Thank you so much for having us,” said Takaaki.

“Of course!” Himeko exclaimed. “It’s a pleasure. Especially since you and the rest of our employees have been working so hard this year--there’s no reason that my family and I shouldn’t do something nice for you all.”

Takaaki smiled. Exactly one year ago, he had made an agreement with Himeko--that he would accept her offer to pay for his experimental treatment, so long as he had an opportunity to work for the Shirogane manor once he became well, in return for her exorbitant kindness. 

Himeko led the two further into the manor. Mingling already in the main dining area, were many of Miyako’s classmates from school, as well as Takaaki’s coworkers at the Shirogane Manor. Among them were Momoko and Kaoru--who were munching on appetizers provided by the Shirogane private catering company. 

It was a formal occasion, so three of the girls wore dresses, while Kaoru and Takaaki were each dressed smartly in a blouse, tie, and slacks. 

“Hi, everyone!” Momoko greeted emphatically. 

“Takaaki-kun, I haven't seen you in a while, how have you been?” Kaoru asked. 

“Doing very well, thank you,” he answered kindly. He turned to his host. “This celebration is amazing, Himeko--you’ve really outdone yourself.”

Himeko shrugged shyly. “It’s what I can do.”

“I know you've got other guests to attend to. We just wanted to commend you on a job well done. And for having us,” Momoko said. 

Himeko beamed. 

“Before you go though, we ought to have a toast,” Takaaki said, grabbing a couple of glasses and filling them up for himself, Miyako and Himeko. 

“To Himeko.”

“To Christmas.”

“To friends and family.”

“God bless us, every one,” said Takaaki with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for anyone who has made it till the end of this work! For me this has been a fun lead-up till Christmas Day, especially since it's been under the bed for so long. 
> 
> As always, comments and kudos (from readers past, present, and future!) are well appreciated. Have a happy holiday season everyone! (and if you're reading this during the year, I hope you have a wonderful day. <3)

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments on this story are always well appreciated! :)


End file.
